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the split

Earlier...

 

We had walked                 We     walked

Hand in hand

Through snow                   Through

To the patisserie

 

Where we bought

Oven warm bread                           warm

And salted butter

And paid in change

 

We waited

A little too long                 little

In the doorway                        doorway

Staring out at the cold                    S

 

You clung onto the bread

Like some thermal torpedo

As we raced                          we raced

Through the sumptuous blanket               Through

Of bitter sunshine                           bitter

And pillow soft snow

 

And when we got home

We ate the sweet bread                                         sweet

With the butter

Leaving salt crystals on our tongue

And tears in our eyes                     tears

 

We forgot everything                    We

And began wanting                             began

Again                               again.

black and white

◄ for want of a red wheelbarrow

Poetry and Mental Health ►

Comments

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Stu Buck

Sun 11th Oct 2015 21:35

thanks guys! im enjoying branching out from my usually rambling. this actually started out as just the left hand poem, but i felt it needed more. at the same time as writing it, i was writing a blog linking poetry with mental health and it just sort of came from there. its a schizophrenic poem i suppose.

Lynn Hamilton

Sun 11th Oct 2015 19:51

I totally agree with Ray. This is wonderful.

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raypool

Sun 11th Oct 2015 16:51

How intriguing and affecting this is, with a lingering of spirit in a small everyday context with the shadows of words left hanging as afterthoughts. Got my attention yes sir. The power of words I salute you.

Ray

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